Milky-White Eyes
by JulieArchery107
Summary: An accident during one of the wars leaves Sniper crippled and unable to fight. It's seams to be a one-time situation were the injury can't be fixed by the medi-gun or reapawn, the team can't seem to accept that they can die. Especially the RED Spy who seems to be determined to help Sniper regain his ability to shoot. Saying that "he wont let it happen again." What does he mean?
1. Chapter 1

"Milky-white Eyes."

Chapter 1

"Light's out, Lawrence."

Today was not a good one for the BLU's.

For one thing: The intel they were trying to gather was in the RED teams building, that was guarded by Sniper.

Two: The said RED was on a record-breaking killing score.

None of that would be much of a setback if it wasn't for one, little thing.

Somebody give him a mini-gun.

With his anger-filled precision mixed with such a fast shooting machine, he turned into a _Terminator._

The BLU Spy growled under his breath, as he moved closer to the rock hiding him from the opposing sharpshooter.

That damnable Sniper shot everything that moved, and that was a theory he and the Scout proved by tossing random objects in the air.

Both hat and quarter, were ripped apart by bullets.

Spy growled again. If it wasn't already bad enough, the man alone was keeping them at bay better than one of Engineer's sentry's. And that hurt his pride the most.

He glanced around and spotted Demoman and their Sniper, hiding behind an even larger rock that he did. The look on the blue sharpshooter's face was that of pure annoyance, because while he did manage to shoot at his counterpart a couple of times, the stubborn Aussie just switched places and fired at them ,the minute he saw one of their heads stick out of their hiding places.

He winced when he heard Heavy's cream fill the air. The poor Russian was never able to stay put for long, which resulted in him lieing face-first in the dirt, with a bunch of red dots decorating his back.

The others were just as annoyed as he was, with Medic taking the lead with his German curses, now that Heavy was not around for the ubercharge.

Scout was trying to beat the doctor in the cursing rant, Pyro was sitting in the corner with his knees pressed to his chest rocking slightly back and forth, Demoman was throwing empty alcohol bottles at the Sniper's direction while screaming at him to "go to hell", Engineer was helplessly trying to hold the rest of the RED team at bay with his sentries, somewhere in the BLU's building (with Sniper providing them with such excellent cover, they sent Scout and Heavy to get the intel, after they made sure he wasn't going to shoot them, while the rest sat back and enjoyed the marksman's rampage) and Soldier was scolding at his team, calling everybody "maggots" and yelling on how they dishonored his unit.

Spy growled at the situation.

If they had any chances of winning this match, he had to get rid of the Sniper.

He locked eyes with Scout, and nodded.

The boy recognized the signal and nodded as well, grinning. He stood up from the hiding place he shared with Medic, and bottled to the open field.

"You can't get me, you can't get me!" He taunted as a series of gun shots were heard, swishing behind him.

Spy smiled under his baklava and clocked. The boy wouldn't last long but it was long enough for him sneak past the Aussie's watchful eyes and make his way towards his hiding spot.

#with Sniper:

He growled at the running BLU Scout, even with a mini-gun he proved to be very hard to actually get a decent headshot on.

It was good Engie built this dispenser next to him or he would have run out of ammo by now, and wouldn't have such a good time keeping the BLU's away from the intelligence.

He didn't know what put him in such a mood in the first place, probably the fact that the BLU Spy was giving him a God awful time all last week, with constantly seeking out his hiding spots and stabbing him in the back.

He got sick of that real quick.

It might also be the fact, that his counterpart headshot him a couple of times as well, where he didn't get him once.

That pissed him of more than he'd care to admit.

Not to mention his encounters with Scouts baseball bat, Pyro's flamethrower and Medic's stupid syringe-sedative-gun thingy.

To Lawrence (1), it seemed as if the whole BLU team was dead set on killing him at least a 100 times that one day!

And he didn't know _why_! Shouldn't they be targeting Spy? Or Heavy? Or Medic? Or Soldier?! JUST ABOUT ANYBODY ELSE WHO DID MORE, THAN JUST SHOOT THEM FROM AFFAR?!

Why suddenly focus on him?!

Regardless of what the reason was, he wanted revenge on the BLU team.

And the mini-gun Engie made for him, was more than helpful with that task.

The gun was perfect.

It reacted to the smallest squeeze on the trigger, could shoot about ten bullets per second and was relatively easy to use.

Mix that with his natural talents as a hunter and an expert marksman, and you got yourself the ultimate defense unit.

He smiled when the Scout finally fell to the ground.

"Boom, headshot." He whispered, patting his new Thundergun, as he liked to call it, since it hit faster than a lightning bolt.

A few bullets hit the space a bit to the left to his head, and he knew it was time to change positions again. The BLU Sniper found him once more.

He hissed when he moved his left leg. Apparently his counterpart wasn't as blind, as he thought he was. The damn BLU managed to get him square in the hip.

Lawrence wondered how he didn't feel that happen, after all a bullet to the leg isn't something you can ignore.

Shaking his head, he shoot a couple of warning shots near the places he knew the enemy was hiding, before limping away to a new location.

The team depended on him to keep the BLU's at bay, till the Scout and Heavy return with the requested intelligence, and he'll be damned if he lets them down because of a simple leg wound.

#with the BLU Spy:

A few bullets landed near where Medic, Demoman and Pyro were hiding.

That was the signal he was waiting for.

It meant Sniper was changing his hiding spot, and what better time to attack then when your enemy is without cover?

Grinning, he watched as a cowboy-looking hat limped towards an abandoned sniper nest, on a treehouse.

He could see why his enemy choose that place, it was the best sniping location on this particular map.

The BLU grinned harder, when he spotted the said man climb the tree trunk, despite the fact that his left leg was out of commission.

This situation was in his favor, for when the RED Sniper enters that treehouse, he'll be trapped.

The only thing he himself will have to watch out for, was the sharpshooter's new gun.

He'll either have to get rid of it, or…simply attack too fast for Aussie to realize what hit him.

With his teammates taking slow steps towards the intelligence, Spy made, still cloaked, his way towards his unsuspecting victim.

#with Sniper:

The day was going so perfectly, he should have known it wouldn't last long.

He managed to shoot the opposing Medic and Pyro, when he realized that…something was not right.

Something, or should he say, someone was missing.

The minute he realized who, his insides went cold and a particular spot on his back began to throb painfully.

The BLU Spy, was gone.

Growling at himself, he wondered when the spook managed to escape his-

His eyes widened in realization.

The Scout.

The spook used the younger man as bait, so that he could slip away without him noticing.

He didn't know why he was so surprised by that. Spies are backstabbing bastards after all.

Knowing the spook will be after him, since he was the one who headshot him three times today, he reached out to his belt for his kukri…

Only to find it missing.

"Looking for this, _mona mi_?" A French voice, whispered right next to his ear.

Alerted, he spun around only to see the BLU smiling at him.

Before he could do as much as blink, the Spy swung the kukri at his face.

He wasn't aiming for the neck, like Lawrence thought he would.

No.

He was aiming for something much, much worse.

His eyes.

Stuck, between the window he was shooting through and the enemy, all he could do was take the hit.

H closed his eyes. As if the soft skin could stop sharp metal.

Everything went in slow-motion.

He felt the sharp, metal object begin to slash near his right temple. Then it went through his closed eyelid all the way to his nose.

His right eye stung.

Then the blade went across his other eye.

It stopped moving when it reached his other temple.

By that time that happened, Sniper was already backing away with hands pressed against his bleeding eyelids, tightly.

"My eyes!" He screamed, much to the BLU Spy's satisfaction.

Forgetting where he was, the poor RED felt the edge of the window hit his legs, but didn't stop backing away.

His instincts screamed for him to put as much distance from the treat, as possible. To which Lawrence gladly applied, that is…till the glass window stopped him from going any further.

"Fuck." He cursed. "I can't see!" He let his hands slip from his eyes and touch the space behind him, reviling a large cut across his eyes.

Under his fingers the panicked mercenary, felt glass. Before he could figure out where he was a voice said, directly before him.

"Let me help you with this _mona mi_." A pair of strong hands pushed him and he felt the glass behind him crush from his weight, the wind suddenly began blowing from behind him with an alarming rate.

He hit the ground with a sickening sound of something braking in his back, quickly joined by sharp pain erupting from his spine.

Grunting in pain he coughed, feeling something hot and sticky hitting his chest as he did so.

He could feel numbness taking over the pain he felt, as he tried to call for Medic. All that left his mouth was a whisper, the taller man probably wouldn't hear anyway.

For the first time in his life, Lawrence Mundy couldn't say darkness claimed him once he fell unconscious.

For it was all he'll see from now on.

JA107:

I don't know if his actual name is "Lawrence", but I saw a lot of people that called him that so I just followed that trend. Sorry if that name belongs to anybody.


	2. Chapter 2

"Milky-White Eyes."

Chapter 2

"Realization."

Darkness.

He saw nothing but darkness.

And that scared him more than he cared to admit.

Seeing nothing but sheer blackness was bad for someone like Soldier (since he can't see anything beneath that oversized helmet of his) and _disastrous_ for a sharpshooter like him.

He was a Sniper! A man shooting people from a far distance! His main weapons were his gun and sharp eyes, he can't afford to lose _any_ of them!

 _Especially_ his ability to see.

Without his eyes…he was close to _useless_.

Praying to heavens above that the dark he was seeing was either a cloth covering his eyes or another 'light's-out!' prank by Scout, he tried pushing himself of the soft ground he was lieing on.

He needed to know where he was, if this was the RED base or the BLU base and, more importantly, why couldn't he see?

"Relax, Herr Sniper." A thick German accent told him and he felt a hand gently push him back down. "You're safe now."

Sniper knew that voice, though it didn't mean he was really safe.

For all he knew, he could be the enemy Medic about to experiment on him or a BLU Spy posing as his teammate to lure him into a sense of fails security before delivering the final backstab.

The world they were in was a traitorous and backstabbing place.

With all the spy technology out there, you had to be _triple_ sure you know who you're entrusting your life to. And sometimes even that wasn't enough to prevent you from, yet again, losing your life to the enemy.

During his long life in this crazy place, he developed somewhat of a sixth-sense that told him if Pyro was really their Pyro. He only needed one look at the delinquent to know if it was a friend or foe. A similar way to how he recognizes wild dingo's apart from his trained pack, back at home.

He just knows.

Unfortunately, with him blinded, he had no idea if whoever was holding a hand on his chest was a friend or foe.

 _Well._ He thought. _Mom always did say: "It never hurts to ask, Lawrence." So why not try that?_

"How do I know you're my Medic and not that crazy psycho?" He snarled, turning his head to the left after feeling the hand had its thumb pointed in that direction.

Sniper knew the man had no reason to answer him truthfully, he was completely under his mercy without being able to do anything about it, but he supposed it was better than to just make a blind jump and believe him.

A snort escaped the other man's mouth. "Please, Lawrence." The German sighted, irritated. "The work time passed two hours ago and the Administrator doesn't let us take hostages after the last humiliation round is over." The bed-rid sharpshooter tried to imagine the doctor glaring at him, with an irritated scowl on his face. "Zat good enough for you?"

Having no other choice Lawrence nodded sighting, not really thrilled to find out what will happen if he was wrong. He almost heard a smile in the Medic's next words:

"Sehr gut, my friend." The man said fondly before taking his hand of his chest, and placing it on his eyes. Under the doctor's fingers he felt rough bandage material scratch his eyelids.

He sighted in obvious relief, at least one of his question was answered.

"Dose your back hurt you at all?" Medic asked and Sniper felt the bandage loosen up a little bit.

"Not really." He answered truthfully and a bit confused. He broke his back yes, but he suspected it to be taken care of by respawn after he died. It always worked, so why would today be any different? "Why do you ask?"

Medic didn't answer him at first but when he did…Lawrence wished he didn't.

"When the last humiliation round was over and you didn't come back, we went to look for you." He said concentrated on the deep scar that decorated the Australian's eyelids. "While the rest of us couldn't find a good lead on to your location, it was Spy who found you unconscious in the respawn room."

Sniper chuckled. "Typical Spook and his amazing tracking abilities."

He heard the healer chuckle half-heartily, before continuing in his best 'serious doctor' voice. "Though we half-expected you to be in the respawn room, the condition you were in was far from what we usually saw coming out from that place."

The marksman felt dread fill his stomach. "What do you mean?" He asked, a hint of fear peaking trough his otherwise indifferent voice.

"Well…for one, your injuries were only half healed." Medic said sadly. "It turned out the respawn was on half power around the time you died, to save power."

Sniper felt his heart begin to beat faster. "But Oi'm okay now, aren't I?" He asked, begging the man to say 'Yes'. "Ya healed me with the medi-gun, right?" Sniper asked again, panic already hearable in his voice.

A loud sight escaped the medic's mouth, and already the sharpshooter knew he wasn't going to like whatever he was going to say next.

"Well…yes and no." The German answered quizzically. "By the lack of pains in your back, I suspect I managed to fully heal your broken spine-" Lawrence stopped him before he could continue. He already knew his back was fine, what he _really_ wanted to know had nothing to with it.

"What about my eyes, Medic?" He asked, feeling like a scared little child lost in the dark.

The German did not respond and Sniper felt panic grow inside his body like a balloon.

"I'm not sure, my friend." Medic said, sadly. "You will have to open your eyes for me."

That's when he realized the cloth that was preventing him from opening his eyes, was off his eyelids.

Taking in deep, panicked breaths he tried to calm his rampaging heart down.

He wanted to open them so very much and yet…he was scared of what he'll see, once he does.

Or rather, what he _wouldn't_ see.

"Sniper." Medic's voice pulled him out of though. "I can't help you, if you won't show me the extent of the wound."

Shaking like a leaf on a windy autumn day, Lawrence opened his eyes.

He heard his collogue take in a sharp breath.

"Medic?"

"Y-Ya?"

"Where are you?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Milky-White Eyes."

Chapter 3

"The one thing not even Medic and his medi-gun, can fix."

For a couple of minutes…all the tall German did was stare.

He didn't acknowledge Sniper's question, he was too shocked to even blink at the moment.

During his long life he saw a lot of things that many people would consider impossible or just inhuman, but that's partly why the Administrator was so quick in hiring him, thanks to what he witnessed he was almost impossible to shock.

He saw people with diseases and wounds that could make a normal man throw up, watched people mutate into beings nobody recognized and, of course, he spend is entire time killing the same nine people every day in various, sometimes twisted, ways.

And yet here he was, staring at his comrade as if he just fell off the moon.

All because of those unnatural eyes.

Medic has seen blinded people in his life, but none of them had ended up like Sniper.

What was once hazel was now in the color of fogyish white, as if somebody had spilled milk over them. What was once black was now a blank, sliver-blue color.

The German knew this wasn't how the man's eyes were supposed to look like.

They were wired, unnatural, scary and…fascinating.

He never saw eyes that reacted that way to being slashed with a sharp object. And god knows he _did_ experiment on people that were blinded that way.

He was instantly intrigued by the question: "Why did they turn out like that?" and promised himself that he'll do everything to find out how it happened, once this was over.

One thing, however, he did know.

Sniper can't see.

Which meant he can't shoot, which means they were one man shot on the team, which meant, if they didn't manage to fix him in time, the 'disposal' of their friend.

And Medic was sure as hell he wasn't ready to 'getting used to' another Sniper, and knew for a fact that neither was the rest of the team.

He was junked out of his thoughts when he realized that the silver-ish orbs before him, began to blurry. Groaning he took his glasses off and rubbed his, without a doubt, tired eyes. He really needed to get Demo and Soldier a few extra brain cells because he was getting tired of patching both of them up, after another game of 'find-the-landmine' during break hours. Though he _was curious_ on how many more times Solley will have to step on the giant red "X", before he finally realizes that it is a trap.

But when the blurry-ness didn't disappear after he blinked his eyes clean, he began wondering if he really was that stupid.

"Shit!" He cursed, snapping from 'I'm-fascinated' to 'I'm-a-doctor' mode.

He should have known Lawrence would go into shock. Finding out he can no longer see must be disastrous for a marksman of his caliber.

"Sniper, calm down." He said in the calmest voice he could master while placing his hands on the other man's shoulder's, squeezing them in a comforting matter.

But Lawrence Mundy had other plans, feeling somebody touch him without being able to tell who it was made him shake even harder.

He was scared.

Horrified even.

And Medic knew that, if he didn't calm him down soon, the man's heart might stop from overwork.

Unlike the rest of the crew, the German knew of the Aussie's childhood fear of the dark. He might not show it, but Medic knew it was there. Whoever Lawrence went to for a psychological checkup, stated that in his medical records. Sure, as a hunter the man had spent nights and sometimes even months in total darkness, but during that time he could control his fear because he knew the blackness will surround him only for a short amount of time, just until he got what he came for. Afterwards, he can return to living in the sweet, brightness of the sun.

And now the realization that he'll see nothing but darkness for the rest of his life, hit him full force.

"Lawrence, it's going to be okay." Medic said trying to stay calm as Sniper's heartbeat raced against his glowed hands. "You're going to be fine. Calm down." On the best of days the Sniper was the most reasonable person on the team. If Medic gave him the 'It's-for-your-own-good' speech, he could talk him into doing anything he wanted, instead of using brute force like in Demo and Scout's cases.

But it seems that his fear of the darkness has overcame reason, for the man's heart began going into overload.

In that case there was only one thing Medic could do, he hated to do this to one of his comrades, especially in a field they all trusted him to be honest with them, but if it could stop Sniper's heart from stopping for good, so be it.

He lied.

"Lawrence, I can fix your eyes but you need to calm down for me." The German knew he was probably giving the man false hope. There was no telling if even a genius doctor like he, along with all of Engineer's inventions, can find a cure to Sniper's blindness.

Hopefully it wasn't some genetic disease in Lawrence's body that was supposed to come out in his senior years, which the slash across the eyes upgraded to its full potential.

Not surprisingly the moment those words left the German's mouth, Sniper took a few calming breaths and slowed his speeding heartbeat to an acceptable phase.

"Really, doc?" The man's deep voice was raspier than he remembered and sounded a bit broken. Even though Medic knew the fact that he lied might crush the poor man beyond even the respawns repair, he also knew Sniper needed something to hold on to and give him hope. Even if it was false.

"Yes, Herr Sniper." He smiled even though he knew Lawrence wouldn't be able to see it. "Really." Medic added, patting the Australian on the shoulder reassuringly. "Let me just get my medi-gun. It never failed before, now did it?" He asked, knowing that Lawrence had no reason to doubt his creation's ability to fix people. He didn't use it earlier because he didn't know if the man's eyes were healed by the respawn or not. Silently, he prayed it did its job correctly.

"Yeah." Sniper's voice sounded a bit more reassured this time, though it still shook. "It never failed before."

Taking that as permission to leave his side, the German hurried over to where his gun rested. Picking it up he cursed on how long it took for it to warm up and aimed it directly at Sniper's eyes.

With the pull of the trigger, the familiar red beam shot out and made its way towards those unnatural, milky-white, eyes.

After a minute, he pulled the beam away.

Of a brief second Lawrence's eyes were back in their honey-like color, everything was okay, he could see.

But then…they began to fade…

In front of Medic's own eyes.

Fading from the warm hazel, to the milky color he began to hate.

The German heard Sniper choke in a sob, and he himself never felt as disappointed as he did now.

The beam didn't work.

And Lawrence will never trust him again.


	4. Chapter 4

"Milky-White Eyes."

Chapter 4

"The reaction of the team."

Engineer looked back at the door to Medic's room once more, worriedly.

His best friend disappeared behind it over an hour ago, nobody had any information about his present condition for over half the time and the RED team was getting anxious.

In any normal hospital this would be a normal thing, but this wasn't a normal hospital, hell the place could be called any names but 'normal' wouldn't be among them. Here the same nine people die and get reborn in milliseconds every single day, they had the technology to build healing machines that could cure cancer and regrow lost limbs in a blink of an eye. This wasn't a hospital, it was a never-ending war-zone. A place where time stopped one day and decided to repeat the same twenty-four hours, over and over again.

Some call it, MAN Corp.

Engineer called it, 'our personal hell'.

He had reasons to call it one, too…they signed up willingly and they cannot leave. Ever.

In a place like this being in the infirmary for more than five minutes was unheard of, and his best friend was already there six times that amount of time.

It was no wonder he and his teammates were nervous and growing restless. They've been here so long, none of them remember what it was like to be _seriously_ hurt.

All their health problems were always fixed long before they could begin to bother them, and the sudden reminder that they were, in fact just as mortal as anyone else, hit them like a sudden backstab from a Spy.

They just weren't ready for it.

A low grunt made the Texan turn his attention from the door and focus it on the pacing, red figure.

Their Spy was walking back and forth smoking one cigarette after another in record time, his little side-walk decorated with cigarette waste.

Even the ever-calm Frenchman was taking today's situation more harshly than he should have, his brows narrowed together and his teeth pressed tightly on the end of the cigarette.

Maybe he too, fell under the illusion that they were immortal and that nothing bad could ever happen to them, that the technology, made by Engineer's grandfather, could protect them from injury and ageing without failing, and was now suffering the consequences of being so naïve.

He wasn't alone, they were all feeling the same sense of disappointment and bewilderment he was experiencing.

They were _all_ naïve.

Like little children gathered in the living room, after discovering that Santa was really just father in a bright, red costume and a fake beard.

The same feeling of betrayer.

The same feeling of confusion.

The same feeling of being _lied to_ by people you were sure, you could trust.

And, just like in a group of siblings, it was the hardest time for the eldest, the one that believed in the lie the longest and had to be strong for the younger.

Ever since they met each other for the first time, it was Spy who earned the most respect. Being the one who always had answers, always had a way out and always had a plan. He was the professional amongst the rookies and as such, quickly became leader in the first mission.

Even though they were all basically the same age, Spy adopted the role of being the oldest, the big brother.

And, surprisingly, the rest of the team got along with it.

Nobody ever questioned anything he said or suggested. As the one who greeted them into the strange world of MAN Corp and showed them how and what to do, he deserved that form of respect.

If he told Demo to stop drinking, the man would grumble but eventually put away his bottle. If there was an unsolved drinking match between Soldier and Demo, they would go to him to give the final verdict. If there was an argument between the other troopers, they usually stopped fighting when he tells them it's enough. They also go to him when they don't know what to do and to get a bit of reassurance, when everything their doing seems pointless and monotone. They open up to him in the hardest of times, and he listens to them patiently with a knowing look in his eye.

In turn the Frenchman gave them his advice and protection.

Of course he doesn't run around checking on them all the time, he has other things to worry about and the others are not helpless, but he does help out the team members that are in his reach with a backstab or two, if they really need it. And if the BLU Spy ever got to frequent with attacking one of his charges, he feels what happens when you piss-off a big brother.

He even pulls their spirit up when one of the wars their fighting, is bound to be a failure. Giving them motivation speeches and reassuring pats in the back, like any good leader would.

Even in the hardest of battles against BLU and GREY, they could always count on him to guide them through the hardships of their monotone, perfect life.

That couldn't be said for today, though.

Unlike any other day in their life, they were on their own.

And perhaps that's why Spy is even more nervous and fired up, than the rest of the gang.

He was supposed to be the one with answers, the one who knew what to do and kept his cool. But how can he comfort his little brothers if he can't deal with the problem, himself?

Engineer knew the French man was worried, but not for him and the rest, he could deal with them after he deals with himself, but for Sniper and Medic.

If they weren't out yet, it meant that:

Medic had a hard time fixing the bushman.

Sniper is more injured than they thought.

Both those things _never_ happened in their universe.

Medic was the best doctor out there, and, accompanied by Engie's machinery, could fix _anything_ that was wrong with the human body. And they all died and got their limbs ripped apart, about a gazillion amount of times. There was _nothing_ respawn and Medic's medi-gun, couldn't fix.

And yet here they are, waiting impatiently for the tall German to give them news about their fallen friend.

And the waiting was slowly _killing_ them.

Demo was drawing circles on the kitchen table with his samurai sword, Heavy was polishing 'Sasha' for the millionth time during the last five minutes, Scout was jumping in his chair like a locked up, hyperactive hedgehog, Soldier was throwing darts at the opposing wall, constantly missing the target and Pyro was sitting in the corner, looking at the tiny flame on the end of his infamous, flamethrower.

They were all acting as if nothing was wrong but Engineer could almost hear the combined power of their nervous heartbeats, thumping under their uniforms. As well as didn't need Sniper's supreme vision to know they were all sweating.

Suddenly, the door to the infirmary was kicked open and a very angry Medic, stormed out of it.

The sound of a metal door hitting a solid wall, made everybody jump and clutch their hearts in hopes of avoiding a heart attack.

The tall German was gripping his trusty medi-gun in his hand and, as he moved pass the stunned Spy, threw the machine against the wall, yelling something in German that nobody understood, in an angry tone of voice.

After a minute of solid ranting in German, the doctor finally switched into English, while kicking the gun with his right leg. But the words were so messed up and quickly said, they only managed to get one line:

"You poor excuse of a proper medi-gun! Why didn't you work?!"

Engie and the others were staring blankly at the, normally calm, raging Medic, wondering when Spy will step in and calm him down like he did, countless of times before.

But the red clothed agent was nowhere to be seen.

JA1-07: Yay, big brother Spy! Please don't kill me, Spy fans! *hides in closet*


	5. Chapter 5

"Milky-White Eyes."

Chapter 5

"Revenge may be sweet but it cannot repair the damage that has been done now can it, dear Spy?"

JA107: I'm Sorry for misspelling the word 'I'm' in the earlier chapter, Annoyed Aussie. I didn't mean to offend anybody, I just saw other writer's type his lines of dialogue that way and though it was correct. I'll be sure to never make that mistake again.

The red clothed agent sighted, reappearing inside the infirmary and closing the door quietly behind him. Blocking away the yells that echoed through the walls.

As much as he wanted to go back and calm the bewildered German down, he knew there was someone who needed his comfort a lot more than Medic did.

He pulled out a cigarette and lighted it up. If he was going to do this, his nerves need to be made of steel. He can't waver, nor show just how worried and concerned he is.

Spy was the protector and as such, he must be strong for the others. Even if he himself would like nothing more, than to sulk in the dark corner of his room.

Somebody had to do it. And, as technically the oldest, that burden was bared by him.

And he'll be damned, if he lets _this_ happen again.

Sucking hard on his cigarette the red clad man made his way towards the operation table, where he saw the still body of Sniper, resting on his side facing whoever came inside.

Lawrence's breathing was deep and slow, but Spy knew that it was only because Medic dulled it with drugs before he left. If it was up to him Sniper would probably be in shock right now, his body not knowing how else to handle the given situation.

When he got closer, he could hear Lawrence's heart struggle beneath his ribcage. One time beating according to what the sedative promised, the other trying to go against it, beating faster.

Sighting, Spy kneeled down next to the fallen man and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He felt the younger man jerk weakly at the sudden touch. His left eye sluggishly opening, exposing Spy to the aftermath of the war that ended not so long ago.

The proud Frenchman's own icy-cold blue eyes, widened at the sight.

What stared back at him, were eyes of white and gentle silver-blue. A color that looked _nothing_ like the one he was used to, glaring at him from the other side of the battlefield.

Frozen he looked deep in those alien eyes, for _any_ signs of recognition.

He saw none.

Those eyes didn't even see him.

The red clad agent confirmed it by taking out his lighter and moving it in front of Snipers eyes, wanting to see if those seemingly dead pupils will react.

They didn't move.

That fact knocked all the air out of his chest, more effectively than a punch to the guts with a metal hammer.

His team just lost the sharpest eyes among them, along with one of the most effective assassins around.

Sniper can't see, which means he can't shoot, which means he can't fight, which means…

The Administrator will have no reason to keep him alive.

And without him keeping watch out on the battle, it was as if the whole RED team lost their eyes.

They all worked together like a perfectly constructed machine, an organism. Everybody had a specific role they had to play for them to achieve success.

Spy and Medic were the head, taking the mantle as leader and as medical support.

Sniper and Engineer were the eyes and brain, the first one being able to spot things others can't and the other, being smart enough to strategically place his robots and sentries so that they insure victory.

Demoman, Pyro and Heavy all acted as the arms, being strong enough to destroy hordes of enemies on their own.

Scout was the legs, being the only one who can run fast enough to take the information back to base, in time.

And, just like a carefully built machine, they can't work properly if one of their parts go missing.

Just thinking about it made rage fill Spy's chest. He bit the edge of his cigarette with his sharp teeth, nearly biting it in half.

"Who did this to you?" He asked through clinched teeth, squeezing Sniper's shoulder to show comfort.

At first the man didn't answer, his breaths sounding ragged and slowed down by force. It was clear his body was fighting whatever sedative Medic pumped him with and wishes for oxygen to flow faster.

"You did." He finally whispered out, the damn medication making it hard for him to speak.

Spy didn't have to make him evaluate, he knew that the poor Aussie had doubts he was the real RED Spy and was actually referring to his BLU counterpart.

Nodding, even though his comrade could see him, he gave the guy one last squeeze and stood up.

He may not be able to bring Sniper's eyes back, but he can make the damnable son of a gun, pay for what he did.

#In The Administrators office:

The purple clad lady watched with unhidden amusement as the RED Spy made his way towards the BLU's base, without any cover whatsoever and looking ready to murder somebody.

She could see he was furious about something, if he wasn't he wouldn't be so open with breaking the number one rule.

"Should we stop him, miss?" Miss Pauling asked from her right side.

"No." The master mind answered simply, puffing a circle with her cigarette. "Let him go do what needs to be done."

"But, miss." Ms. Pauling said, alarmed. "There is no telling _what_ he's going to do!"

"Relax, Pauling." The Administrator answered lazily. "The man's been here long enough to know what will happen if he kills one of the BLU's, during ceasefire." Another circle of silver smoke, hit the air. "Trust me when I say this, Miss Puling. This isn't the first time he's going on a rage fit and clearly won't be the last."

Pauling could understand that, what she couldn't understand was why her mistress was so 'okay' with it.

#BLU's base:

The front door was kicked open and eight pairs of eyes turned to face the intruder.

They all widened in fear seeing just _who_ came for a visit.

Blazing silver-blue eyes glared at them, hand curled around a nicely craved ambassador and half a cigarette hanging limply from between bared teeth.

During the years they were stuck together, the BLU's learned a valuable lesson about the opposing team's Spy.

Do _not_ , in any way, make him angry.

To them he was a legend, a man believed to be here ever nice MAN Corp began functioning and the only survivor of the original team RED. He has so much experience, he practically didn't need the rest of the team to kill them all.

At least…that's what they believed was true.

The red clad agent walked past the scared figures, without as much as a glance. The BLU's didn't stand in his way knowing that if they did, they'd be as good as dead.

#With Spy:

Spy made his way towards the room that held his target. The bastard who crippled one of his charges, one of his little brothers.

And was going to _pay_ , dearly.

A wooden door appeared in his way, looking remarkably a lot like his own back at RED base. Which made his despise his counterpart even more as he kicked the neatly made door, open.

It reviled a fellow Frenchman, calmly drinking tea while looking out the window.

RED Spy moved faster than even _he_ thought, he could. Pinning the darker colored man to the wall with his trusty gun at the other man's head and butterfly knife piercing his opponent's spine.

The BLU Spy grunted hitting the wall rather painfully, but managed to smile.

"I was…wondering when you'd come." He whizzed, looking back at the blazing ice-blue eyes.

He didn't get a vocal response, only a sharp blade being pressed to his back.

"It hurts doesn't it, RED?" He asked chuckling. "To see history repeat itself for the _third_ time. To watch them go down, one by one and not being able to stop it. To be left _alone_ again and again."

The knife was already half way though his back, but he didn't stop talking.

"Knowing that…no matter what you do…you're condemned to watch them disappear time and time again, asking yourself why you can't follow." A chocked chuckle left his mouth. "Being you must _really_ suck."

A well-paced punch to the face made him shut up, the rest of the hits made him regret he was ever born.


End file.
